


When you come back

by Dexiha



Series: Drabbles [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 12:41:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11921127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dexiha/pseuds/Dexiha
Summary: Prompt from anon on tumblr





	When you come back

Harry stumbles into the Ministry, struggling to keep his eyes open. He wants to _sleep_. Or at least sit down for a few moments. But there is no time for that. He needs help. Things had gotten rough the last thirteen hours during his undercover work of infiltrating an organized black market of illegal curses and potions. His cover hasn’t been blown yet, but he needs help or he will screw it all up. 

“Ey! Need help!” he tries to shout but it comes out more as a raspy slur. Damn it! He needs to wake up more, be less asleep so his body can function as he wants it to. 

“Fighting in…” he tries again, but his words trail away before he can finish the sentence as he gets a coughing fit and slumps to the ground. He feels more than hears that someone comes rushing to his side. Strong arms pull him up from the floor.

“What’s happened, Potter?” Immediately, Harry recognizes the voice. Malfoy. 

“Fight… undercover… help…” he manages as the tries to not think about how close he and Malfoy are standing. 

“Merlin’s soul, why didn’t you come here earlier, you oaf?” Malfoy mutters while he half carries Harry to his office. He carefully lets him down on a soft, green armchair next to a magically charmed fire.

“You stay here.” Malfoy orders. “I’ll go inform the other Aurors. Alright?” Harry nods. He is finally able to sit down, and rest his tired feet. It feels incredible. He has been up for almost thirty hours straight, tracking trails in the shadows before he got into a nasty fight between two groups of murderous wizards. They fought for hours - during which the rival group seemed to continuously being backed up by new wizards - until Harry could get away and apparate to the Ministry. His legs are now stiff as sticks and his whole body is bruised from different curses. 

“Oh, man, you look horrible, mate.” comes Ron’s voice. Harry looks up at his friend’s worried eyes. “I must say, I agree with Malfoy. It was bloody thick of you to wait for so long before coming here.”

“Couldn’t." Harry mutters.

“You couldn’t? I suppose that’s because you would blow the cover if you did..? Mate, you’re half dead! The Healers are on their way, of course, but still. You should've come earlier! Some bloody undercover work is not more important than your life!”

“I’m not dead yet.” Harry counters. “Wait, what do you mean the healers are on their way?”

“You’re kidding right? You know why! You need some mending done!”

“But there’s no time! We need to get back!”

“Yes, _we_ do. Not you. Robards already sent Malfoy.”

“WHAT?!"

“Harry, you didn’t seriously think we’d let you back, did you? You look like you wouldn’t’ve lasted even five more minutes.”

Harry tries to rise from the chair to make a point of that he’s well enough, but he immediately feels dizzy and sick. Of course, Ron notices and grabs his wrist to help him sit down again.

“Exactly, mate, that’s what I meant.” he says, worry still obvious in his voice. “The Healers should be here any minute now. Just relax, things’ll be alright.”

There is no use in arguing, even though Harry very much wants to. Mostly because he doesn’t want Malfoy to be out there in the cold all alone, and he’s worried that he won’t get to see the handsome bloke again alive. Yet, another part of Harry is relieved that he doesn’t have to go back. After fourteen weeks in the slum, he is rather tired of it.

When it’s clear that Harry won’t argue about the situation, Ron sighs out a breath of relief and turns to leave the room, leaving Harry alone in Malfoy’s office again. Well, alone apart from the husky sleeping on a seemingly very soft blanket in one corner of the room. For the first time in forever, Harry’s sure no one will come barging in on him, so he lets himself loosen up and fatigue instantly spreads through each millimeter of his body. He lets his eyes fall shut and falls asleep right away. 

When he opens his eyes again, he’s laying on a bed in one of the extra rooms the Auror department offers those who don't have time to go home. He's already feeling a lot better: his head no longer hosts a pressing headache and his movements don’t cause pain to shoot through his body. Suddenly he remembers that Malfoy is out somewhere unknown all by himself and Harry wants to help. He rapidly sits up and faces… Kingsley. 

“Uhm… hello, Minister.” he mutters.

“Good afternoon, Mr Potter. As I’m sure you know, you are replaced by Mr Malfoy on operation x-oh-zeta. As we so hastily ushered him away, he didn’t have any time to take his pet Eltanin to his home, or prepare certain things, and her, for him being away for who knows how long his absence will be. And you are in great need of some rest. You’ve been gone for three and a half months straight, before that you had four oneweek-works in a row, after having been undercover for another five weeks. It’s almost half a year non stop in the outer battle front. I’m well aware, Mr Potter, that you’re very good at your work, but even you need to get a break from time to time. I also know that you won’t agree to leave for neither sick absence nor vacation. I will therefore personally order you to take care of Mr Malfoy’s dog as well as do regular check ups on his home while he is gone. Is that understood?”

Confused, and with open mouth, Harry nods at the same time as he is processing the words. He’s officially ordered to take care of Malfoy’s husky, as his _auror_ work. Even though he knows this would be perfectly fitted to argue about, he finds that he doesn’t want to. He remembers the white and grey dog with silvery blue eyes in the office and realizes he actually wants to tend her. And, for some reason he does not want to think further about, he actually gets more eager for the task because of the fact that she’s Malfoy’s pet. 

**_~¨~¨~¨~¨~¨~_ **

An early morning just over two months later, Harry is sitting in his favourite armchair - the dark green one - in the sitting room of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. He is reading a muggle fiction book when he hears the front door open and someone stumbles in. At first he tenses and reaches for his wand, but then he sees the happy wag of Eltanin’s tail and the worry leaves him. Instead of rushing out, he lazily walks out to the hallway and leans against the wall. There, he watches Malfoy cuddle with his dog. For some reason he can’t think of right now, he feels strangely happy to see the blond man, despite the fact that his clothes are ripped almost completely off his pale body. A tension he had not known was there, leaves his shoulders and he suddenly realizes that through the past two months he has been incessantly worrying about Malfoy. That also has him once again thinking about how he has grown rather fond of the man over the past years. 

“You look like crap, Malfoy.” he says, in order to let the blond know of his presence. When he looks up from Eltanin, Harry almost stops breathing altogether because of the intensity they’re shining with. 

“Yeah, I can imagine how it must look from your view, though I can assure you, you looked worse last time I saw you.” Malfoy drawls back with a hoarse tone. Harry is about to counter that he wasn’t _that_ bad when he came back - after all it had only taken him a few hours to get back up, ready to run - but he’s frozen in spot when he sees Malfoy trying to stand but wincing in pain. It’s clear that his left foot can’t carry the weight of his body and his right shoulder is dislocated. If that wasn’t bad enough, Harry can now also see a large wound on the other man’s chest, bleeding aggressively. It’s bleeding and bleeding, with no end seeming to be near, and by the way his eyes seem to become unfocused every other five seconds, he’s not far from passing out completely.

“Bloody hell,” Harry breathes. “Didn’t you meet up with a Healer?”

“No… I didn’t need to. There’s nothing serious. I just checked in at the Ministry to let them know I was back, then I headed here.”

“But… you’re _bleeding_!”

“What?” 

Only now does Malfoy seem to notice the nasty cut, and if possible, his face got even paler.

“Merlin, how? I didn’t even… get hit there… I think…” he mumbles faintly.

Quickly, Harry runs to his side and steadies him right before his knees decide to give up. He carries Malfoy into his bedroom and places him in the bed. There, he starts working on numerous healing spells, and with every ticking second it gets clear that Malfoy is steadily getting stronger. When all the wounds are healed, almost an hour later, and Draco has regained some color on his cheeks, Harry decides it’s wise to help the wizard into a sitting position.

“Tea, Malfoy?” he asks smilingly, though it’s at first answered with a snort. 

“Only if you call me Draco.” he says then, softly. 

Although a bit taken aback, Harry nods before leading the way down the stairs. Eltanin, who has been laying by the fireplace while they were upstairs, comes running to greet them as soon as they reach the bottom of the stairs. Mal- _Draco_ cuddles with her on the floor as Harry prepares the tea, all while they chitchat with each other. When the tea is ready, they take place at the kitchen table, on chairs opposite to each other. Harry is immensely happy for that, as it offers him a chance to keep looking at Draco’s rather beautiful shape. 

“So, the case is solved?” Harry asks. 

“Yeah, the practical part is, but there’s gonna be a nasty bit of paperwork after those five months so…”

“Mhm.. we better get used to spending more time together then, Draco.” Harry smiles, knowing he inwardly doesn’t only mean time at work. When he then sees Draco look up with big, round and _happy_ eyes, he can feel himself blush.

“I’d be very happy to do that,” Draco answers with a new warmth in his voice that Harry has never heard before. It sounds appealing and charming and Harry finds himself wanting to hear it more often. “Also,” Draco continues. “I believe Eltanin really likes you as much as she likes this place.. so maybe… we could come over _here_ more often?”

“Of course, Draco. You’ll always be welcome here.” Harry answers, very much delighted by the enthusiasm Draco shows for spending time with him. “If you want to, you can both stay over during late nights as well.”

Draco nods and accepts Harry’s offer to refill his teacup. 

They’ve been chatting into the late afternoon when they hear the Floo activate. A few moments later, Ron enters the kitchen. 

“Oh, you’re here, Malfoy.” Ron says cheerfully. “That’s great, then we could invite you too. Mom and Dad’s gonna have this large dinner next weekend. Lots of food and people and all that, you know. You’re both very much welcome to drop in after half five. Dinner’s at seven. Alright?”

“That’s brilliant, Ron.” Harry smiles. “I’ll look forward to it. Do you want some tea?”

“Nah, that’s fine. We’re headed to Leaky anyways. Me and Hermione , I mean.” Ron says. “Though you could always come with us. It's just a few pals there, I'm sure you'll get along both of you.”

“Sure! You can go ahead though, We’re not ready just yet.”

Ron leaves the room again and Harry quickly turns to put the dishes away. 

“You want _me_ to come with you to a meeting with your former Gryffindor mates?” Draco asks disbelievingly. 

“Yeah, why not?”

“Because they don’t like me.”

“Oh, come on, it’ll be fine. It could be like a celebration for you getting back home. And if it’s not fine, we’ll leave. Okey?”

A faint blush creeps along Draco’s cheeks. 

“You mean, you’d leave _with_ me if that was the case?”

“Of course! You’ve been away for two months Draco. And after living with your rather amazing husky, I’ve learnt that the best thing to have after being away for a long time is a loving company. So, I won’t leave you.”

“Alright,” Draco blushes. “But you have to lend me some clothes.”

Harry smiles. “Sure, we can choose clothes for each other - it’ll be fun!” he laughs before he rushes back up to his bedroom with Draco following closely behind.

They enter the bar side by side. As they move to the table where Neville, Ron, Hermione, Luna, Ginny, Seamus and Dean are seated, Ron instantly looks up at them and whistles.

“Oh man, you two sure changed up.” he comments and eyes their clothes. Harry’s idea of picking clothes for each other had ended with them wearing outfits they hadn't worn before, making them look sexier than ever. Both are wearing skinny black trousers, though Draco’s are a pair of Sirius’ old cool jeans, with chains and stuff attached to the waistband. Together with the black leather jacket and his blond hair, he manages to look both extremely cool, hot _and_ elegant at the same time. Harry in return, wears a black suit, making him look like he’s headed to some place much more fancy than the Leaky Cauldron. When he had looked into the mirror before heading here, he had to admit, he looked rather posh in them. 

Ron’s words caused everyone else to turn their attention to the newly arrived pair. 

“Merlin’s beard, Harry” Seamus pants. “You look _hot_! And Malfoy, never thought I’d live to see you in any of Harry’s clothes, let alone look good and _comfy_ in them.” 

“Well, anyone could change could they?” Draco answers. “It’s not like I had any choice though, there was no time to go to my place and I had to change unless I wanted to show up here in tattered trousers and a bare chest… which I don’t.”

“Pfft, man, I’d like to see that.” Seamus snorts and earns a blow from Dean.

Harry and Draco settle down between Luna and Dean. Luckily, no one holds any grudges towards Draco anymore, and the evening carries on smoothly with lots of laughter. At least it was smooth until they all turn to Harry and Draco again. 

“So, how did you two come so close?” Ginny asks.

“What do you mean ‘so close’?” Draco sneers. 

“We’re just friends.” Harry adds.

“Yeah, right, now maybe.” Ron snarls and grins.

“What's that supposed to mean?” Harry asks bewildered. 

“It means that your thing for obsessing over Malfoy over the years finally is sort of explained.” muses Hermione.

“You’re all crazy!” Draco whisper-shouts. “And it’s late. I haven’t been home in two months yet, so if you'll excuse me..”

The blond leaves the table hurriedly. Shortly after, Harry follows him as he knows he’ll be shot down with questions from his friends if he stays. And because he knows that they had a point in what they were getting at - he does have a thing for Draco. Outside, rain is pouring down and Draco’s just standing in the darkness, letting the water dampen his hair. The light shining through the windows is reflected in his grey eyes, making them look like pools of thick mercury. His facial features seem less pointy and the wet clothes clearly shows how muscular his body is. He is absolutely beautiful. 

“Sorry ‘bout that.” Harry mutters as he walks closer to stand next to the man.

“Nothing to apologize for, Harry.” The use of his first name makes Harry frown for a moment. It sounds… right, coming from those curly lips. “It’s just… so many mixed emotions.” Draco continues. “First, the regret and fear of what happened during… you know… then, confusion… because what exactly did Granger mean?And then there’s… never mind.”

“Please, Draco, tell me.” Harry begs, for hope for Draco returning his feelings is filling his chest. “We’re friends right?” For some reason, Draco flinches at this, and Harry can’t help but think that it’s because Draco doesn’t want him to call him by his given name anymore. “I mean.. it’s Malfoy if you’d rather want that…” he adds.

“No, you plumber, I’d very much like you to call me Draco. It sounds nice when you say it.. not like when… _he_ said it…”

Highly overwhelmed by this, Harry can do nothing but smile, nod and hum in response.

“And yes, Harry, we’re friends… and I want us to continue being friends.” After that, he adds something under his breath that Harry probably is supposed to not hear, but he does: _"or more”_. The meaning of it all - _HIS FEELINGS ACTUALLY WAS MIRRORED BY THE OTHER MAN!_ \- crashes upon Harry’s mind with such force he almost looses his balance. He probably would have, had Draco not got a strong hold of the front of his shoulder. Without thinking, Harry leans into the touch, appreciating how those slender fingers cool him down at the same time as they heat him up through the thick fabric of his wet suit. Draco’s breath hitches, causing Harry’s attention to turn to his face - to his lips. The beauty of it all, combined with the urge Harry feels to touch more of the blond man, turns off his mind and he slowly leans even closer to Draco. He can feel Draco let out a ragged breath right before he too leans in and their lips touch. A loud roar sounds from inside the bar, revealing that all the Gryffindors (and the Ravenclaw) are watching them, but neither of the boys care. They’re too busy tasting each other’s tongues. When they finally part, both are breathless and Harry sees that Draco’s eyes are dimmed. He supposes his own looks the same as well.

“We’re definitely more than friends, and I suggest that you and Eltanin stays over _every_ night from now on,” Harry smirks before devouring Draco’s lips again. 


End file.
